


By any other name

by Adara_Rose



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Romeo and Juliet Fusion, Doomed Relationship, Love at First Sight, M/M, Romance, Shakespeare Quotations, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-04 03:39:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14584137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adara_Rose/pseuds/Adara_Rose
Summary: For never was a story of more woeThan this of Loki and his beloved Thor.(Thor and Loki starring as Romeo and Juliet, in Shakespeare’s most famous tragedy.)





	1. Chapter 1

_ Two households, both alike in dignity _

_ (Upon fair Yggdrasil,, where we lay our scene), _

_ From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, _

_ Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. _

_ From forth the fatal loins of these two foes _

_ A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life, _

_ Whose misadventured piteous overthrows _

_ Doth with their death bury their parents' strife. _

_ The fearful passage of their death-marked love _

_ And the continuance of their parents' rage, _

_ Which, but their children’s end, naught could remove, _

_ Is now the wretched weaving of this tale— _

_ The which, if you with patient eyes attend, _

_ What here shall miss, my toil shall strive to mend. _

 

* * *

 

“HALT! What is the meaning of this?” The roar cut through the combatants like a well-aimed horse whip, stopping several of them in their tracks. He had that ability, the good Prince Rogers. In the city of Yggdrasil, Prince Steve of house Rogers (known as “captain”) was the law, or perhaps he was even above it. He ruled the city with an silken fist, barely hiding a claw of iron. The claw being his main man, Sheriff Barnes. 

 

His ire was aimed at four men, held back by his own soldiers. 

“Brawling in the streets like commoners” the Captain sneered as he came towards them, his red coat swaying in the early morning breeze. “Have you no shame?” The last part was aimed at the three men on his right side, dressed in the bright red of House Asgard. He then turned to the one on his left, dressed in the blues and purples of Jotunheim.

“Byleistr” he said sadly as he recognised him, “I truly thought better of you.”

Byleistr, who was tall and broad with dark hair and skin the blue of a winter sky, snarled in fury, his red eyes flashing.

“They deserved it, the rotten bastards.” Steve sighed deeply and shook his head. Byleistr was hotheaded, always had been, and it was his temper that usually got him into trouble. But to take on the Warriors Three, sworn kinsmen of Asgard, on his own? Surely not even Byleistr was that fool-hardy.

Steve gave him up as a lost cause, turning instead to the other three men.

 

“Three against one” he said in a disappointed tone. “Where is the chivalry in that?”

Volstagg bared his teeth as Hodor spat on the ground in Byleistr’s direction. Fandral, who was being held in an iron grip by two soldiers, seemed to be the only one willing to defend them.

“That bastard fights well enough for three men” he protested, glaring daggers at the young lord of Jotunheim. 

Byleistr smirked in triumph, hatred shining in his eyes.

“Enough!” Cried Steve. “I have had enough of this, no more, any of you! For years you have marred my city with your ridiculous feuds. Well, it ends today. From this day forth, any man from Asgard or Jotunheim laying hand on the other will be  _ put to death. _ ”

The crowd that had gathered to watch the brawl gasped in horror, staring at their prince in shock. Steve breathed deeply, shocked himself at his anger.

“Now be gone from my sight, the lot of you” he ordered brusquely, glaring them all down until they did as bidden, slinking off back to their houses in shame.

It would probably have been easier, Steve thought despairingly, if the houses did not lie across the street from each other.

 

* * *

 

In another part of the city, Thor Odinson of house Asgard was moping around his mother’s gardens, feeling very sorry for himself. It had been almost three days since he last laid eyes on the beautiful Jane Foster, whom he was very much in love with. Truly, there was no other in the world who was even half as beautiful as her, with her long dark hair and enchanting eyes. Never in his life had he before seen such eyes, and her smile…

 

“Thor!” someone cried, breaking into his fantasies about that smile being specially aimed at him. He turned around, frustrated, but calmed a little when he saw his dear friend Sif approach him. For once, she was not wearing the armor of a shield maiden but a fine blue dress, making her appear like an elegant lady. Her dark hair fell loose and free, instead of being confined to the usual braid.

 

“Tell your mother” she went on as she came closer, “that I don’t care if it’s the party of the year, I am  _ not _ wearing this ridiculous get-up!”

“Tell her yourself” Thor said, rolling his eyes at her ire.

Sif scowled, looking like she wanted to give him a good throttle. “I tried!”

“Then how do you expect  _ me  _ to succeed where you failed?” 

“You know she gives you anything you want. Tell her you want me to go as your shield maiden.”

Thor, figuring there was no need to antagonize the angry woman any further, held up his hands placatingly.

“I’ll try” he said, trying to sound soothing. Then, he remembered something.

“What party?” He asked, honestly bewildered.

Sif stared at him like he’d gone mad.

“The Prince’s yearly masquerade. Tonight. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

Of course he had forgotten; he had been thinking of little but Jane lately.

Sif sighed deeply, shaking her head.

“What is it with you?” She asked. “Lately you have been so… odd.”

“Well, if you must know” Thor replied, feeling a stupid grin spread across his face, “I’m in love!”

“Rot!” said Sif, “you have no eyes for love, only caring for fighting and drinking.”

“That only proves how little you truly know me” Thor replied, feeling hurt. “I will have you know that I have found the woman I intend to marry.”

Sif clearly did not believe him, but humoured him all the same.

“Very well” she said, “tell me about her.”

And Thor did. He spoke at great lengths of Jane’s beauty, of her divine eyes and her perfect figure. Of her graceful movement and her elegant dress. The way she bent her head.

 

Sif listened, increasingly astonished. Once Thor had run out of breath, she spoke again.

“Oh Thor” she sighed, “Know you not that Jane Foster is for the cloth? She is to take vows.” 

This was news to Thor, who felt his heart ache. Was he to find love only to immediately lose it? It was not fair, not when Jane would be perfect for him.

Sif saw where his thoughts were turning, and put a hand on his arm.

“Perhaps you will find someone lovelier at the masquerade” she said encouragingly. 

Thor shook his head miserably.

In all of Yggdrasil, there was none fairer than Jane Foster.

 

* * *

 

Across the street from where Thor was conversing with Sif, another conversation was taking place. This one, too, was about the future.

“We are most honored by your offer, my Lord” said Laufey of Jotunheim politely, doing his best not to show how excited he really was about this match. He had worried lately about his youngest, who was so different from his strong and battle-wise brothers. Loki was no helpless flower, no, but a warrior he was not. 

“Then you accept” replied Lord Stark, clearly expecting them to agree. Then again, laufey didn’t think Tony Stark had been denied anything in his life. 

“I must ask that you wait a little” said Laufey, “Loki is only fifteen, barely more than a child. He is too young to be wedded.”

Tony frowned in displeasure.

“A little?” He demanded, “how long is that, exactly?”

“Oh, a year, surely no more. Once he is seventeen-”

“Ha! What makes you think I cannot have another today?” Tony sneered, making shivers run down Laufey’s back,.

“Well, I cannot know that” Laufey replied, “but I know that my Loki has the largest dowry in all of Yggdrasil, and that he will give his husband the most beautiful children. I only ask for him to be a little older.”

“One year” Tony said after several moments of tense silence. “And not a day longer.” 

“It will give you ample time to make him love you” Laufey said, pleased. “For I will not permit my son to marry a man he does not love. If he decides that he will have you, then you have my blessing.”

And thus it was decided that the youngest son of Lord Laufey of Jotunheim was to be wooed by the Prince’s kinsman, Ser Tony Stark.


	2. Chapter 2

Frigga smiled in pleasure at her only child, dressed in his fineries for the evening’s masquerade. He wore black breeches, clinging to his strong thighs, and over it a coat of Asgard red, inlaid with silver and gold embroidery making it gleam and sparkle when he moved. The shirt was crisp white, with the fashionable high-collar and elegant buttons in the shape of little lighting bolts. His fair hair flowed free over his shoulders, held back with a thin circlet of white gold. The boots were thigh-high,carved and dyed with red paint, a pattern of swirls and curls making them shimmer in the sunlight. Completing the outfit was a short black cape with gold fabric sewn on the inside, making him appear like royalty.

“Dear Thor” said Frigga as she admired her son, “how handsome you look. You will have them all vying for your attention.”   
Thor nodded, not wanting to tell her that he only cared for the attention of one woman, who might not even be present at the party.

“Will you be attending, mother?” He asked instead.

“Oh, I think not. It is for young folk to amuse themselves, not ones such as I.”

“You are still young, mother. You simply must attend.” Thor insisted, then added impulsively; “I’ll dance with you!”

Frigga laughed.

“Well, for the pleasure of dancing with my son, I shall attend.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Ser Stark?” Loki asked where he stood, “what about him?” 

Three maids were moving about him, dressing and neatening him as a fourth arranged his hair.

“Your father wants you to marry him” Farbauti replied, watching his youngest son with pleasure. Loki was stunningly beautiful, even with the glamour that turned his blue skin pale, his red eyes green. At least the hair still fell like a dark waterfall over slim shoulders.

“Marriage!” Loki laughed, “why should I marry, I am only fifteen!”

“I was younger than you when I married” replied Farbauti, “and by your age I had Helblindi.”

“Aye, but it is not the way these days” protested Loki, “I am too young yet.”

There was a lull in the conversation as Farbauti stood watching his son admire himself in the mirror.

“Perhaps” he acquiesced eventually, “but your father has made an arrangement with lord Stark. One year he has to win your affections, and if he does then you will marry him.” 

Loki frowned, both from the information and the pain at the maid tugging at his hair.

“And what if I do not like him?” He asked, eventually.

“Then I expect there will be no marriage.”

 

* * *

 

 

Thor felt completely out of place in the light of the torches brightening the Prince’s hall. He wanted to be there, but his reason for being there did not seem to be present. He circled the room over and over again, making small talk when it could not be avoided, but never stayed long anywhere. Where was she? Where was Jane, so that he may dance with her?

“You look like someone has died” Fandral noted as Thor slunk by, only stopping to grab another glass of wine. “Why are you not dancing? This is the greatest party of the year, and an unending amount of pretty girls are here.”

“Don’t you know” Sif replied, clearly amused, “Thor is in love.”

“No!” Hodor laughed, “The king of whoring and drinking, in love? Ha, you’re drunk!” Volstagg joined in the laughter, his boisterous mirth making several heads turn in their direction.

“I hate you all” Thor muttered, and turned to leave them again.

 

But then, there was a rustle over by the doors, as a youth of great buty entered the halls. His skin was pale as silk, his hair fell long and dark around his slender shoulders. He was dressed in a robe of finest green, the same colour as his brilliant eyes. Thor’s heart started beating so rapidly it felt as if it was trying to run out of his chest, in order to throw itself at the feet of this strange beauty.

“Who is that, who teaches the torches to burn bright?” He asked, his question aimed at everyone and no one.

“I don’t know” replied Sif, “but he is lovely.”

“Lovely? Ha! He stands out against the darkness like a jeweled earring against the cheek of a Dark elf. His beauty is too good for this world; he outshines all others like a dove in a flock of crows. When this dance is over, I’ll see where he stands, and touch his hand with my rough and ugly one.”

 

He hurried over to the beauty, so wrapped up in his task that he failed to notice that he walked straight past the until then worshipped Jane, who followed him with curious eyes.

 

Thor came to stop before the slender youth, bowing deeply and offering his hand. He was met with a delighted smile, and then a slim little hand was placed in his. 

 

“Did my heart love til now?” He breathed, taking in the gold circlet resting in the dark hair, “Foreswear it sight! For I ne’er saw true beauty til this night!”

 

“Why thank you, kind sir” the youth looked up at him through thick, dark lashes, making Thor’s legs go momentarily weak. Then they were dancing, and nothing else in the world could possibly matter but the two of them.

 

* * *

 

 

Byleistr turned away from Helblindi and saw something that made his dark red eyes turn maroon with fury.

“That uncouth-” he began, hand going to the sword hanging by his side.

“Calm yourself, brother” Helblindi said with a sigh, knowing his brother’s foul temper. “What has you so cross?”

Being almost blind, Helblindi could not see what was going on right in front of him.

“That dog Odinson. He’s here.”

“Of course he is, the prince has invited all nobles to this feast.”

“You don’t understand. He’s here. Dancing with Loki.”

“I see” helblindi murmured, still as calm as ever. It was one of his finest traits; to even in the greatest moments of discord, to remain calm.

“Calm yourself brother, it is but a dance. Loki is much wiser than you give him credit.”

 

* * *

 

 

As they danced, Thor found himself staring transfixed into beautiful green eyes that spoke of things his own heart did not dare to speak. 

“Your hand is like a holy place that my hand is unworthy to visit.” Thor said, clutching it in his own, “If you’re offended by the touch of my hand, my two lips are standing here like blushing pilgrims, ready to make things better with a kiss.”

Loki smiled, blushed in a way Thor found adorable. This stranger spoke to him in a way he wished Tony would speak to him, they were to be married after all.

“Good pilgrim, you don’t give your hand enough credit.” Loki protested as they twirled through the room, unaware of the way everyone seemed to have stopped to watch them. “By holding my hand you show polite devotion. After all, pilgrims touch the hands of statues of saints. Holding one palm against another is like a kiss.”

Thor drew a deep, slightly shaky breath.

“Don’t saints and pilgrims have lips too?”

“Yes, pilgrim—they have lips that they use in prayer.” Loki looked amused, but not quite understanding. Thor decided to be brave, even though this beautiful youth frightened him more than anything had before. He was already so hopelessly in love with him.

“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do.” He begged, “I’m praying for you to kiss me. Please grant my prayer so my faith doesn’t turn to despair.” Loki smiled, slightly cheeky.

“Saints don’t move, even when they grant prayers.” He replied, turning his face up to Thor’s.

“Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take.” 

Thor leaned in, Loki rose slightly on his toes, and then their lips met. It was electrifying, dizzying, leaving them both senseless.

“Now my sin has been taken from my lips by yours.” Thor whispered, unable to hide the adoration in his eyes.”

“Then do my lips now have the sin they took from yours?” Loki asked, his voice unusually breathy.

“Sin from my lips? You encourage crime with your sweetness. Give me my sin back.”

And Thor leaned in again, and Loki found himself falling helplessly in love with this golden stranger.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I shove an obscene amount of shakespeare quotes down your collective throats, completely unrepentant. Because this is the balcony scene, and it deserves to be quoted!

Eventually the dance ended, as dances are wont to do. And with the end of the dance, the two young lovers were parted by their families. Or more accurately, the beautiful stranger that had stolen Thor’s heart in the span of two kisses was swept away by a giantess in a nurse’s uniform, insisting that the enchanting youth’s mother wanted to speak to him.

 

“Angrboda” Loki protested unhappily, as he was more manhandled than escorted to a secluded corner. “Must you be so difficult? It was just a dance.”

 

* * *

 

Thor stood frozen, in the middle of the dance floor, unable to tear his eyes away from the departing beauty.

“Who is his mother?” He demanded of the room, and was answered by Sif, whose eyes were sharper than his.

“I think she is Farbauti, of house Jotunheim.”

“You mean that…” Fandral had joined them, looking at Thor with a mixture of amusement and trepidation.

“I think that was Loki, yes.” Sif murmured back.

Thor wasn’t listening, but spoke more to himself than to the others.

“Is he a Jotun? Oh, this is a heavy price to pay! My life is in the hands of my enemy.”

“Best we leave!” said Fandral, “things are at their merriest.”

“Yes” Thor agreed, still staring transfixed in the direction Loki had vanished, “but I am afraid I am in more trouble than ever.”

 

* * *

 

Once alone, Loki turned to Angrboda.

“What did mother want?” He demanded, most cross at having been made to leave the charming man who had ensnared his heart.

“Your mother? Ah, she wants nothing. But you ought to stay away from that man.”

“Why, who is he?”

“I know not, but not your betrothed.” Ah, as if Loki wanted to think of Tony at this time.

“Then find out who he is, immediately!” Angrboda made an unhappy face, but could do little but obey her young master.

“If he’s married” Loki whispered to himself, “I think I’ll die rather than marry someone else.”

He waited impatiently for Angrboda to return, refusing to dance with other applicants. He only wanted the stranger with the beautiful grey-blue eyes.

Upon returning, Angrboda reported this:

“His name is Thor of house Asgard, the only son of your worst enemy.”

Loki felt the earth tremble beneath his feet, as the world seemed to slow to a stop in that moment.

“My only love” he moaned, “sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late!” his cheeks paled, his brow furrowing with despair. “Prodigious birth of love it is to me, that I must love a loathèd enemy.”

“What was that?” Angrboda frowned, taking his chin in her hand and forcing his face up to hers. He gave a quick, false smile.

“Oh, just a rhyme i heard while I was waiting for you to come back.”

“Loki!” Someone called from the doors, signaling that his time at the party was at an end.

 

* * *

 

Fandral and Sif had to nigh-on drag Thor out the door, as he didn’t want to leave without seeing the enchanting Jotun again. He resisted almost all the way back to their house, even though by that point both Volstagg and Hodor had joined in the dragging. 

“I just want to talk to him!” He complained, firmly ignored by his so-called friends. 

“You’ve talked enough” said Sif firmly, “kissing an enemy in front of the whole city! What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I love him!” Thor replied hotly, to the surprise of his friends.

“And mere hours ago, you loved Jane Foster” Sif replied in the same tone as before. “Don’t be foolish, Thor.”

The city was already dark, lit only by torches few and between, as they made their way home. Once they finally made it there, Thor turned back to the street, sighing deeply.

“I only want to see him again” he said unhappily, “perhaps he will even smile at me.” 

“Come now Thor” said Fandral, “forget the youth and go to bed. He is not for you, I heard he is promised already.”

Thor shook his head.

“I cannot, will not, forget him. Not when I did not know love until I saw him. But look, it is dark already! I shall sneak into the gardens of Jotunheim and try to catch a glimpse, even if I must wait til daybreak.”

“Thor, no!” Sif cried, but it was too late. Thor was already across the street, climbing the wall leading to the Jotunheim gardens. Sif made to run after him, but Hodor held her back.

“Let him go” he said, “if you try to catch up you’ll be spotted for sure, and then he will be discovered, too.”

Sif sighed, but admitted he was right. Instead, they quietly made their way into their own house, hoping they’d not run into anyone who’d ask about Thor’s whereabouts.

 

* * *

 

 

The gardens of Jotunheim were beautiful, but nowhere near as lovely as his mother’s, Thor thought as he navigated past flowers and shrubs. It was almost completely dark, and he heard at least once stem break under his boots. But at this point in time he did not care; all he saw was the window above, gently lit by candles, and the figure standing by it, looking out at the night. It was the same shape that he had seen before, even if it now was obviously Jotun. He must have worn a glamour, Thor thought as he stared in awe at the beauty above. Loki was stunning in his night robe, blue skin shining softly by the moonlight from without and candlelight from within. His dark hair hung loose and free over his slender shoulders.

“Oh look,” Thor whispered to himself as he moved closer, “it is the east, and Loki is the sun! Rise up, beautiful sun, and kill the jealous moon, for she is so for you, Loki, are more beautiful than she!”

He was standing almost directly beneath the window now, heart beating so fast it felt like it was about to jump into his throat.

“Oh, there is my love! I wish he knew how much I love him. Look at those eyes! Two of the brightest stars in the sky, twinkling there!”

Loki leaned his head in his hand, looking up at the sky, and Thor wished with all his heart to be the glove on that hand, so that he might touch that cheek.

Loki, who had opened the window, said something that Thor could not hear.

“Speak again, bright angel!” He begged.

“Thor, oh Thor, Wherefore must you be Thor?” Loki said, speaking to himself but every word slipping down to Thor, winding themselves around him. “Deny thy father and refuse your name! Or if you will not, say you love me, and I will no longer be a Jotun!”

“Dare I speak?” Thor asked himself, taking another step closer. He could see that Loki had removed his gloves, and was starting to brush his hair.

“It is only your name that is my enemy. You are you, not an Aesir. What is Asgard? No part of your body. What is in a name? That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet. So Thor would, were he not Odinson called, still be perfect! Thor, trade in your name, which is no part of you, for all of me!”

“Then call me but love” Thor cried, delirious, “and I will never more be Thor!”

Loki startled, nearly dropping his brush.

“Who hides there? Who listens to my private thoughts?”

“I have no name to give you” Thor replied, “for it is your enemy!”

“I know that voice!” Loki exclaimed happily, forgetting his brush. It felt useless from his hand, clattering on the floor. “Are you not Thor? Of house Asgard?”

“I am neither of those things if they bring you displeasure.”

“But how did you get here?” Loki demanded, leaning forward to see Thor better. “If my kinsmen find you have scaled the walls-”

“I flew over the wall on wings of love! And I am the finest warrior Asgard knows - your kinsmen are no danger to me!”

“If they see you, they’ll murder you!” Loki laughed, too joyous to be truly scared.

“The darkness will hide me from them. And if you don’t love me, let them find me here. I’d rather they killed me than have to live without your love.”

Loki was leaning out the window now, his hair tumbling loose and free in a manner that almost made Thor feel that if he reached up, he could touch it.

“Do you love me?” he asked, breathless at his own daring, ”I know you’ll say “yes,” and I’ll believe you. But if you swear you love me, you might turn out to be lying. Oh Thor, if you really love me, say it truly. Or if you think it’s too easy and quick to win my heart, I’ll frown and play hard-to-get, as long as that will make you try to win me, but otherwise I wouldn’t act that way for anything. Do not assume that because you made me love you so easily my love isn’t serious.”

“My lord, I swear by the sacred moon above—”

“O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon! Every month its position in the sky shifts. I don’t want you to turn out to be that inconsistent too.”

“What shall I swear by?” Thor asked.

“Well, don’t swear. We cannot possibly be in love already!” But Loki knew he was, and he wanted to believe the man staring up at him in adoration. 

“And yet” Thor insisted, “here I am, asking for your love’s faithful vow for mine.” 

Loki felt a giddy smile overcome his face.

“I pledged my love to you before you asked me to. Yet I wish I could take that promise back, so I had it to give again.” Thor felt honestly hurt at these words.

“You would take it back? Why would you do that, my love?”

“Only to be generous and give it to you once more.”

“Loki!” Angrboda called from inside, and Loki startled, suddenly afraid of having been overheard.

“I’ll be right there!” Loki called, then hurriedly turned back to Thor. “If you truly mean it, then send me a word tomorrow. Let me know the time and place for us to wed. I will be there, with all my heart. A thousand times good night!”

“I will send it by nine!” Thor cried in his delirium, ecstatic to know that his love was returned.

“Then good night! Good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow. that I shall say good night till it be morrow.”


	4. Chapter 4

Early the next morning Thor, who had barely been able to sleep, went to see the one person he knew would help him without argument or questioning. Freyja, the vanir priestess, who had sworn fealty to House Asgard years ago, when Thor was still a child.

He found Freyja in her garden, which was nowhere near as beautiful as those of the houses of Jotun and Asgard, but served its purpose well. It was, after all, a garden of functionality and beauty came second. Freyja was pruning a group of lovely purple flowers, and the loveliness of the flowers only made her own loveliness the more obvious.

When she saw Thor, she wiped a strand of red hair from her face and gave him a friendly smile, waving at him with her pruning scissors.

“Good morning!” She called enthusiastically, and if he hadn’t already been deeply in love he might have been interested in her charms. But they both knew he wasn’t, although she was not fully aware of why.

“How is Jane?” She asked, when he had answered her greeting. Her blue eyes crinkled with laughter.

“Who?” Thor asked in consternation. He hadn’t been listening, thinking instead of how Freyja’s eyes were nowhere near as lovely as Loki’s.

“Your one true love, the lovely Jane Foster. I expect it is she that has put such a spring in your step. Have you at last consummated?” Freyja added the last bit with a teasing tone. But Thor simply shook his head, then beamed at her.

“Ha, speak not of Jane, who is Jane?” He cried, “Nay, I have found my one true love at last!”

Freyja laughed.

“Fickle man, you love with your eyes and loins, and not your heart. Who is she, then, who has you so entranced?”

“He is my one true love.”

“Aye, so you said” Freyja’s eyes widened in surprise. “He? It is a youth that has you so enchanted?”

“Aye! I have sworn him my love and been sworn his. We are to be married.”

“Oh, Thor, how lovely!” Freyja did not let on with so much as a twitch how surprised she was at this. “But who is he?”

“Loki, my own sweet Loki, of house Jotun.” Well, that wasn’t what she had expected.

“And do your parents agree to this union?”

“Ha! Nevermind what they say. I say Loki is to marry me, and he says I am to marry him. That is why I came to you; will you wed us Freyja, today?”

Freyja dropped her pruning scissors in surprise. “Today?”

“Aye, today, before the sun sets. We do not care to wait!”

Freyja thought it over, looking thoughtfully at the beaming Thor. He was practically glowing with love, in a way she had never seen before. And if he was to marry the young son of Laufey, then this ridiculous feud between the houses would surely end with their marriage. Peace would be won with no blood shed.

“Alright!” said Freyja smiling, “at noon, here, bring your love and I shall wed you.”

 

* * *

 

Sif and Fandral had been looking for Thor most of the morning, and were running out of options as to where he could be found. 

“Do you think he might be with Jane?” Fandral asked eventually, frowning. Sif shook her head.

“You saw him last night, I have never seen a man fall so hard so fast.”

“But then where might he be? At house Jotun?”

“They’d never let him past the doors. Nay, surely not- but look, there is Byleistr. What does he want here?”

The jotun in question was Loki’s older brother, Byleistr, one of the finest warriors of Yggdrasil. Tall and dark, he towered over both Sif and Fandral easily.

“Asgard dogs” he sneered as he saw them, and Sif’s eyes flashed in temper.

“Jotun cur” she sneered, trying to calm her temper. 

Fandral put a hand on her shoulder, placating, but she shook him off.

“You dare show your face outside our house” she said, her frustration over Thor’s absence get the best of her.

“I live here” Byleistr replied nonchalantly, indicating the house behind him. 

“Not once I am done slitting your throat” Sif said, barely recognising herself. Fandral drew a harsh breath, not understanding where this fury was coming from.

Byleistr laughed.

“You can try, wench.”

“I shall” Sif said, unable to take back her words now that she had uttered them. “At sundown.”

“Then be it so.” Byleistr bowed mockingly. “At sundown, just here.”

 

* * *

 

Loki had been waiting impatiently for a message from Thor since nine, and now it was nigh-on eleven. Anxious, he paced his rooms, unable to sit and rest for more than a few moments at a time. When at last the messenger boy knocked, Loki was on him before the door had fully opened. The message was delivered, opened, read, and Loki beamed at it’s contents. Then he turned and swiftly threw it into the fire before anyone but his eyes could see what Thor had written. He had no need to read it twice; it was, after all, already written into his heart. Noon, Thor had begged him to come to Freyja’s gardens at noon, where they would be married. He felt giddy with anticipation; less than an hour until his true love would be his forever!

“Nurse, I must go out” Loki said, as he got ready to leave.

Angrboda, however, stepped in front of him as he went to exit the door, not letting him out.

“Move!” He commanded, “I must go!” 

“Not until you tell me why you are in such a hurry, young master.”

“It is no business of yours!” 

“And yet your face is red, and your hands tremble, and you threw that letter in the fire without saying who it was from. Nay, my lord, I will not let you go without telling me where.”

“I am going to be married” Loki cried angrily, “and you cannot stop me!”

“Married? Loki, that was not one of Ser Stark’s men.”

“Nay, and I will not have Stark. I shall have my true love, who is even now waiting for me to come to him so that we may wed.”   
“And who is your true love? The one who was beneath your window last night?”

“Aye, that was he! And I shall go to him now. And while I am gone, you shall procure a ladder with which he shall scale my window to-night.”

“Master Loki-”

But Loki was done with talking, and brusquely pushed past Angrboda and disappeared down the stairs. He was already running late.

 

* * *

 

They met in Freyja’s gardens, where Thor was eagerly awaiting his Loki who came to him, out of breath from running, at noon precisely.

“Darling!” Thor cried in delight, hurrying towards the smaller male, drinking in his beautiful blue skin and long black hair.

“You are even fairer like this” he said adoringly, “in the sunlight you glow like the fairest of flowers.”

Loki blushed and smiled, giving Thor his hand. “And you are even more charming in the day time” he said happily, allowing himself to be kissed.

“So the lovers come to me” Freyja said smiling, as she approached them holding several ribbons of different colours. “Let us unite these warring houses with bonds of love.”

 


End file.
